


Short Shy A Couple Diamonds

by thosewhitejeans



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Miles Kane - Fandom, The Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, honestly just solid fluff, it's very cute, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 09:53:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosewhitejeans/pseuds/thosewhitejeans
Summary: For a theme "Love" (it's just really cute tbh)





	Short Shy A Couple Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, really sorry I've barely posted anything in literally forever! The new chapter of my high school fic will be done soon and I'll post the final few parts! But until then I really hope you enjoy this! Please comment if you fancy it, they really help! Uhm enjoy? (I personally hate this lol but whatever)

_D'you know what's ridiculous?_

_I'll tell you._

It's like click bait or something in the simplest of forms. Pen on paper and so utterly enticing. Miles wants to fold the sheet, push it back under the books on the bedside table and forget its very existence but then something about Alex's spidery hand literally sucks him in. The words run into sentences, run into each other and so it's literally impossible to stop once he's started, there don't seem to be many discernible full stops or real punctuation, mostly just commas where Alex's thoughts pause for breath but there is structure there. It's Alex, of course he's structured his writing. The more Miles overthinks the more he wants to listen to his better half and put it down. But he's also aware it's meant for him, has to be really. So he should read it? He gets one sentence in before it's too much, smile warring with prickling tears because he can't decide what emotion to feel. 

_It's 01:55am, digits blinking at me and struggling to catch my attention because as usual my thoughts are turned inward, thinking about you. Of course I'm thinking about you, thinking about how much I love having you in my life, how the idea of forever with you is gorgeous when, of late, forever in itself often just seemed... Tedious? A waiting game? Torturous even on some days, but now I'm just counting down the days until our forever starts._

_We've all there was, all there is and excitingly, thrillingly, breathtakingly there's now (hopefully) all that there'll ever be. Hopeful certainty. Oxymoronic. I'm desperate. So lulled back to sleep only for the eagerness of waking up, for that new day to start and it all to begin. For us, I'm desperate. Desperate to live and love and learn together, laugh and cry, breathe and feel and listen. I can't wait to grow with you, alongside you and for you to grow with me. For us to teach each other and learn from each other and help each other. Not that we haven't already, but I'm tasting horizons, mementoes thrust forward like some deja vu waiting to happen._

_It's a wondrous idea, a hopeless, lovely thought, twisted up in romance. You know me. And my heart has never been more in tune with my head._

_You're everything, you see; sun, stars, moon, dust. You're the dust that makes us up, tiny tiny particles so cleverly twisted into drifting fibres that thread together to make a whole. And just like that you stitch me back together, patch up the tears, the rips and the holes and then go that extra mile, fasten us to one another. Stitch by stitch you've been at it a while, as time passes and the warmth of that sunlight you cast becomes what we need to grow together and strengthen. Because even if long since we're severed by some cruel sharpness, there'll still be left behind the needle holes and the cotton remnants as a constant reminder of all that once was. You're in my very fabric, my very being and it seems I'm already overtaken by you. Overcome, you with your new root system to never quite replace the old but to twist your way around it so as no branch and no meandering tendril can be told apart._

_I love you, Miles._

It feels like prying... because it is, but then there is his name there at the bottom. Scrawled so carefully, although perhaps an afterthought? Alex does usually like to leave these things anonymous in their address but this one feels different. When he gets caught red handed a few moments later all Alex does is flush a little to match and then smile all soft. 

"You found it then," he murmurs in a hazy sort of way like he's not sure he wants to proceed and Miles feels himself choking, tears or dry emotion he's not so sure but he has to swallow twice before he eventually manages to simply nod. 

"You're it for me, Kane, always have been," he breathes, steps closer like he knows Miles has gone weak and touches his fingers to his hand like he's asking permission for something. As it is the fingers curling round his offer him a little strength and Miles is instantly overcome, it's all just pure beauty where Alex is concerned and his prose fits just as nicely as his poetry, arrows for his heart and soothing hands for his soul. 

\-----------/----------

_"Don't ever leave."_

_Miles was being dramatic of course, hand thrown over his eyes to block the light, voice coming out hoarse and making him cough halfheartedly. Dramatic indeed, but he felt terrible and Alex was so good to him, he didn't even get mad earlier when Miles told him to fuck off. His words lacked real sting of course since he was half asleep but if Alex asked one more time if he was ok he might actually snap. The lad had done something of a double take but ended up smiling, kissed him on the head and told him to sleep so he'd feel better. He did feel better but only after he'd woken and found that Alex was still sat with one hand in his hair as he paged through a book all concentrated. He smiled sleepily and pushed his face against Alex's thigh to get his attention._

_"Don't ever leave," he mumbled and although he felt really pathetic he was soothed by the way Alex just chuckled at him and smiled._

_"Don't plan to."_

\---------/--------

Here he is, in front of him, hasn't left yet. God he's not about to is he? No of course his helplessly affectionate love note is hardly about to lead to that. Alex is much easier to handle when he didn't feel well, Miles muses, he gets quiet and seeks affection and then he gets sleepy and seeks affection. Despite all though, they each seem to always know what the other needs.

\-------/-------

_In Alex's flat on a Wednesday afternoon his phone vibrated. He half sighed, put in a melancholy mood by an elusive riff, he needed something more, something that would to have been perfect for that song, something that would fit what he already had. He answered the phone without checking and was immediately set into a better mood._

_"Miles, been thinking about you all afternoon," Alex greeted, leaving Miles blushing but letting him speak all the same._

_"Mmh, 'm struggling Al, I've got this new idea... it's in F sharp, something for those lyrics we had." He could half hear Alex gasping a little as he laughed incredulously._

_"I've got something for you actually, that's what I called for its err... it's also in F sharp."_

_He played it over the phone and through the tinny phone speakers Miles had a glimpse of what might be, exactly that missing thing, maybe a couple of tweaks, but certainly something that fit together._

\-------/-------

That's him and Alex, fitting together like two halves of a whole. Cross continents they fit, over the phone they fit, musically the pair of them just fit. Miles watches Alex, his smile growing at the romance going on in his head versus the spilled thoughts that Alex has offered up. Alex is beautiful, just so lovely, Miles had always thought as much.

\-------/----- 

_Miles looked over at Alex, mid-interview and left wondering. Hadn't anyone ever told him that he was a creature of such delicate beauty that it was almost impossible not to stare. It would feel like a waste at the very least. All it took was a moment while he struggled for words, always chasing after a phrase, elusive dreams lost in the ether that were waiting to be caught, lassoed from afar to be given that delicate pleasure of being handled by his tongue. He even let them tumble around his mouth beautifully. While he was flustering with his hands in thin air his lips were occupied with forming dense thoughts. It was quite simply a spectacle._

_Miles didn't even blink. And what sort of audience would he be if he did, if he shut his eyes for even a moment and lost the thread of sparkling delight that kept itself invisible between them._

_A passing thought fluttered about his gaze for just a second, his eyes burning where they'd been focussed so long but all it offered was the chance to look away, to stop himself looking foolish perhaps but he ignored it. The wondrous boy before him was only making sounds at that point and Miles knew there was not much left in that tank. Alex could surely go on forever with those dedicated little mumbles and yet always he ran out of energy, zapped by a lack of response or a questioning look or some shuffling hint that they're about to move on. In an effort to keep him at it a moment longer Miles shut his mouth, eyes still sparkling with helpless affection as he nodded along, some probably vain attempt at encouragement._

_There was a flicker of perception from before him, not quite a full look but some re-animation of sorts and Miles revelled for that half second longer hoping for syllables to become words that might get him flowing again. Sadly it seemed that particularly tributary had run dry and Alex closed up, leans back again and lets his shoulders curl in, disappointed but not nearly as much as Miles who could've easily watched the show for hours._

\-------/------

Miles perpetually set himself back to square one thinking of Alex's breathtaking beauty. A not entirely conventional beauty, he supposes. He is gorgeous, of course, but there's more to it than that. Miles could get forever lost in the way Alex's thoughts seem to present themselves outwardly in his mannerisms or his hesitations. He's a beautiful soul, Miles eventually settles on. In front if him Alex goes through those same familiar motions of cautious phrase building. Miles watches, not wanting to interrupt.

\------/-----

_On a Sunday morning Alex put the radio on and let the Beatles play out. One channel had a Sunday morning "Beatles brunch" programme that Miles always pretended he didn't deliberately put on. Alex beamed at him and smiled as he danced badly and pulled Miles close to join him, falling over themselves and letting their breakfast remain uncooked on the stove. He stole morning kisses and gave back twice as many, he looped his arms round Miles' waist and pushed his nose into his cheek, gentle, sweet. Eventually he picked up a spatula and began scrambling eggs, singing along much quieter and commenting every so often on some aspect of song while Miles stumbled through making tea, still giddily buoyed up on pure love._

\---------/-------

The little reel of memories finally lets up and he clings to thinking about that last one. The sun shone that day and Miles perpetually ascribes it one of his happiest simple memories. Looking up at Alex again he's clued in to why he remembered that particular morning right now. It's the look in Alex's eye, the one that says more than any "I love you" ever could. He looks beautiful and Miles wants to tell him but his voice is lost.

"Fuck," Miles finds himself breathing and immediately he's regretful. He'd been hoping for something profound, something that might make Alex's glistening eyes sparkle where he's gazing up all uncertain. He wants to kick himself because Alex is searching out approval and Miles can't fumble quick enough for words, he's too trapped, too lost in his agreement as scenarios flicker through his mind on a reel much too speedy to encourage structural thought. 

"You wanted me to?" He queries still thinking of how Alex has caught him with the note in his hands, he has to be sure he's not crossed a line. Alex nods, but he's gone quiet and tense, curiously so and Miles feels some distinct urge to pull him close and wait for him to ease up. Instead he swallows again, hard. He's confused really, and overcome by the romance of it all. Alex coughs and his cheeks are still prettily flushed, his hair a little messy as a hand finds its way up there again. 

"I... I'm charmed, Al..." he finally forces himself to say, because he is, he's charmed, swept off his feet truth be told by his very own Prince Charming. Alex halts, stuck still and wondering and Miles can't possibly miss his downcast features. He should've been more enthusiastic, should've brought up every little moment that note had him thinking of. 

\------------- 

"It's 01:55am, digits blinking at me and struggling to catch my attention because as usual my thoughts are turned inward, thinking about you."

_Miles was 8 weeks into tour and 3 weeks into missing Alex wholeheartedly. Across the continents at almost 7 in the evening he gets a text._

_**"Sometimes, when I can't sleep I crawl to the cold side of the bed and seek comfort in the fact that it's *your* side. In reality these days it feels less like *your* side so much as the opposite of mine but there's still every once in a blue moon to think about."**_

_He bit his lip and pressed to dial. A breathy answer of "Miiiiles" greeting him without delay, drawn out and followed by a yawn._

_"What time is it darling?" He questioned, struggling to tally the maths in his head._

_"2am."_

_He exhaled, pushed the phone closer to his ear and felt his fingers itching with a need to soothe, to coddle and smooth. They'd only been on the phone minutes when he noticed a distinct lack of response. A soft call of the lad's name went ignored and so Miles simply chuckled._

_"Alright darling, I love you, goodnight," he murmured to deaf ears and hung up rapidly, eyes stinging with the notion that being apart was hard, but a smile on his face from the realisation of the value of each exchange._

\-------/-------

"Uhm..." Alex speaks up gently, eyes flicking to the window and Miles notices the dark sky beginning to twist into the familiar start up of a storm. Seconds pass and Alex seems lost for a moment but far off thunder cracks and he smiles, looks back and catches Miles' eye while he shivers subconsciously against the terrible weather. Miles wonders if Alex is caught up in the same memory that forces its way behind his own eyes, casts him back to a day just few weeks after they'd started "dating" officially. 

\----------/---------

_"Fuck."_

_His own fault, he'd idiotically left the window open all day. It was early December and was decidedly cold when the two entered his bedroom together, stumbling and laughing having drunk at least a little too much between them. They'd practically been forced to leave the little gathering by their friends who'd decided they were suddenly much too mushy. Alex's fault that one, that habit of his involving face planting the nearest shoulder the second he started to lose energy. Miles couldn't very well leave him to curl against his side without stealing an opportunity to kiss his head and slink an arm round his waist to pull him closer. Newly open relationship be damned PDA was greeted with teasing._

_When they got to Miles' and opened the door Alex was the one to grumble, immediately shivering at the cold blast of air when he opened the door._

_Miles just chuckled at him, ruffling his hair and quickly crossing the room to shut the offending window before glancing back and laughing again at Alex. With his arms crossed over his chest he was shivering lightly, probably a little exaggerated. Miles wordlessly stripped his unnecessary clothes and got into bed, patting the space next to him with a soft smile emerging, obviously coping better in the chill than Alex was._

_Alex didn't need telling twice, refused to take off his jumper when he hopped into bed beside Miles and returned his smile, snuggling into Miles open arms, letting him hold him close as they curled naturally into their default position; limbs entwined with as little space between them as possible._

Another crack of thunder makes him blink and he's aware of Alex watching him. There's so much insecurity there in his eyes, such a desperation for validation that almost always goes unsaid. Miles fights an urge to step nearer and hold him, finding his attention drawn back to the note. It's curiously well presented, messily handwritten but there's nothing crossed out or scribbled over. He's watched Alex write, watched him deliberate over phrasing in sentences, replacing words one at a time until the sentence reads exactly the same meaning but sounds so very different. He's also watched Alex write where he puts pen to paper and doesn't stop, just lets line after line come out, spelling things wrong but ignoring them or maybe not noticing in his  almost feverish state. Those times he'll get to the end and not even read it back, he'll shove the piece of paper away perhaps for another day or perhaps to be crumpled and torn and thrown away forever. Like some catharsis. For a moment Miles is lost in wondering if this is the latter or if it's the former but a re-drafted copy. 

"Beautiful..." Miles mumbles although he can't be sure if he's talking aesthetics or linguistics. Lost again in details. Both in the soft curls falling haphazard over Alex's forehead and the twisting flow of words on paper. In the deep brown eyes staring up at him, warm like caramel where the light catches. Freckles beside those pouting lips of his. Jawline cutting through his thoughts, sharp. God. How Alex sometimes struggled to see it he'd never know, he was just stunning. 

"So beautiful Al," he tries again, gaze flicking back to the paper and he feels Alex exhale, wonders if maybe he'll explain. Not that he's against having lengthy love notes written about him, for him... just that it's so careful and so tender, he's not sure what sort of motivation is behind it. 

"There a reason," Alex blurts. Telepathy, Miles muses, watching as Alex straightens his curved shoulders and takes a breath, "sorry... sorry let me... I 'ad something prepared." 

Miles' eyebrow raises on instinct and he's drawn to staring again, waiting, watching. In an instant his mind takes him back to the last time Alex looked this nervous, he can't even remember what they were doing but the image of those doe eyes watering he moment they were alone as he began to crumble was etched into us brain somewhere. Feeling lost Miles had just held his arms open, waiting for him to nestle close and accept every measure of comfort. The same as Miles would most certainly get in return. 

\----------/---------

_"Sinking Miles." He'd mumbled once his face was hidden in the crook of Miles' neck. Miles threaded his arms tighter and let a hand rub across his back._

_"No." It was all he said but all that was needed. Just a gentle negation of Alex's thoughts, those thoughts that made him feel so helpless. The ones that had him feeling as though the future was simply something that needed waiting out. When he described things in certain ways Miles got scared. Earlier he'd tried to joke about it, "waiting for life, Miles, it's tedious... torturous," he mumbled and a humourless laugh followed that had Miles firmly telling him to stop._

\----------/---------

The fact that Alex has chosen to write about that moment has Miles wondering just how long he'd had that note written. It also makes him think, think of how Alex must hold that memory somewhere with access. A thrill sets through him though because if Alex's words are to be believed, Miles himself makes Alex's idea of forever bearable. No pressure then. 

As pressure goes there's Alex, still looking lost in front of him. Before another moment can pass he's murmuring "fuck it" and Miles only has half a second question it because suddenly Alex is sinking to the floor. Bending one knee and never taking his eyes off Miles. For his part Miles can feel his eyes sting, likes to blame it on how he's got them forcibly open, doesn't want to blink lest this whole situation should disappear, vanish. He's surprised, to say the least.

"You took me by surprise," Alex finally utters, looking a little more cocky now than terrified which has Miles at ease. He chuckles.

"Me? Your the one... on yer knees..." he goes quiet, voice feeling like it's not his own but thankfully Alex is smiling so he probably looks shocked as opposed to aghast.

"I just... wanted it to be organic... but I had hoped I'd be better dressed than this when you read it." He explains. 

Miles just snorts because that's so Alex. Personally Miles thinks he looks incredible, t-shirt and jeans and lacking in shoes, just socks, his hair unstyled and just slightly wavy. As far as he's aware though Alex has more to say, not a lot, two words but they're the two words that finally make him sink to the floor. 

"Marry me?" 

Alex's voice is soft and gentle but he doesn't stutter, doesn't tail off or get embarrassed. Just smiles at the end, truly happy. Miles pulls him in, sits on the floor and falls into his arms as he nods frantically, voice too broken to manage a real answer but just managing to hush Alex with a kiss when he starts babbling about a lack of ring.


End file.
